Alternate
by ThisPerson1
Summary: In which all of the band members have completely different roles both in, and out, of the band. It all starts when a certain blue-haired fellow rams his car into a music shop. It snowballs from there. Slightly older Noodle in the beginning, and she will probably be more AU-ish than the rest. Rated T for language and themes, 93% courtesy of Murdoc.
1. Chapter 1

It was a lovely day out. The sky was a beautiful blue with not a single cloud in sight and the temperature was favorable. Murdoc couldn't wait for his shift to end so he could go out and enjoy some much needed fresh air. There was only so much of Norm's that one could take. Speaking of Norm, he was still off to the side trying to sell someone a keyboard that had been sitting there for a little over a year. The customer was one of the more frustrating types, constantly asking the most obnoxious questions like how loud the keys clicked. Murdoc snorted at Norm's increasingly aggravated attempts to explain why that depended on the force they were hit with. As his boss was trying to describe the more useful features of the keyboard he went back to sweeping the floor. Normally he wouldn't have bothered until Norm chewed him out but today had been so slow and there was nothing better to do. He'd cleaned the instruments, wiped down the counters, and even reorganized the back room about three times. It was all an attempt to make the time pass by but even with all that he still had another hour left. Murdoc sighed. Days like these made him want to kill himself. Absolutely nothing exciting ever happened. Nothing at all.

"Hm?" Murdoc looked out in front of the shop. There was a hill and at the top of it seemed to be something. A car? "Eh. It's probably just some drunken shit who can't park right or somethin'." Without giving it any further thought he went back to the floor. Norm's customer had finally gotten sick and tired of dealing with him and stormed past Murdoc and out the door.

"And don't come back!" Norm shouted after him. "Honestly, people sometimes. Can you believe that guy 'Doc?"

"I've told you a hundred times, old man. My name ain't 'Doc. It's Murdoc. _Murrr_ doc." He put extra emphasis on the first half of his name but knew it wouldn't matter. Norm had a habit of giving people stupid nicknames and sticking with them no matter what.

"Of course it is, mate," he laughed, slapping him on the shoulder. "Well, I'll leave you to your sweeping. I'm gonna go in back and get me a smoke. I need it after that one." With that Norm left his only employee by the front door to finish sulking.

"And I'm still nowhere near the end of my shift," he groaned. Hearing a noise he glanced out the corner of his eye. And instantly tried to leap aside. A car smashed through the glass of the store and flew straight toward him. Murdoc didn't have time to move before the vehicle connected with his face and sent him flying back into the counter. Everything after was nothing but a blur. Noises, voices, people screaming and a still-running car. All of it was making his head hurt even more. A sudden slam forced him to open his eyes a crack in an effort to see what the cause was. A blue and black blur towering over him was all he could make out. Suddenly several other blurs ran up to it and they all melted together. Murdoc shut his eyes but could hear a struggle and a lot of yelling. Too much yelling. He blacked out.

When he opened his eyes, Murdoc saw he was in a hospital room. He was still pretty groggy but he was definitely certain of the fact. He turned his head to look out the window and instantly regretted the movement. The whole thing was throbbing, his nose especially. Cautiously he brought a hand to it and quickly realized it was broken. Aside from that and the splitting headache he felt just fine though. It seemed that he didn't sustain any major injuries from the... What happened again? Thinking back Murdoc retraced his steps trying to remember what had put him in the hospital. He was at Norm's, there was an annoying customer, he was sweeping, they both left...

"Mr. Niccals?"

"That damn asshole!" Murdoc screamed, not noticing the doctor. "I can't believe some stupid idiot hit me in the face with a car! A BLOODY CAR!" At this point his face was red and he was left reeling from the pounding in his skull.

"Yes, well..." The doctor was still in shock from the sudden outburst. "Ahem. My name is Dr. Collins. Thankfully it seems all you've suffered was a broken nose," he said, having regained his composure.

"And a headache. One that makes my worst hangovers seem like fun." Murdoc flopped back onto the pillow and decided on not moving until the pain went away.

"Uh, right. So your nose was broken on impact..." He stopped there because he wasn't quite certain how the other man would take it. After his previous outburst Collins wasn't sure if he should risk it.

"Go on," Murdoc said slowly. He knew there was something more that Collins didn't want him to know. People didn't just repeat things like broken records unless they were hesitant on the other person knowing the rest.

"It will heal with time but-"

"Out with it already!"

"I-it's severely misshapen." Neither man said a word. One out of fear of the other's reaction and the other still taking it in.

Murdoc's brain eventually finished processing the information and he sat up, completely forgetting his condition. "WHAT?! What's wrong with it?!" He started climbing out of the bed but Collins quickly rushed over and pushed him back down.

"Please calm down! It's not nearly as bad as you think!" Now he was shouting. Every person on the floor probably heard them by now. Two nurses rushed in the moment they heard the doctor's voice and saw him struggling with Murdoc. They ran over to help and after much arguing he finally laid back down while one nurse went to get a mirror.

"You expect me to believe it's not that bad when you were so hesitant on telling me?" He was so angry that not even the pain he was experiencing could stop him.

"I was hesitant because I wasn't certain how you would react. This little fiasco only proves my point." Collins and Murdoc both crossed their arms and the nurse was worried that another struggle might break out. Lucky for her the other came back with a small hand mirror.

"Gimme that!" Murdoc snatched it and stared at his reflection. His nose was indeed effed up. It was beyond misshapen. "Ain't there a way you can fix this?" he asked, lightly tracing a finger over the smashed appendage.

"Not without some surgery. Nothing major of course, just-"

"Eh, never mind." He tossed the mirror at one of the nurses who just barely managed to catch it. "I don't need any surgery. But once I find out who did this I swear I'll-"

"That would've been me." A tall man stood in the doorway. He looked to be a little over six feet, had blue hair that looked almost purple with the way the light was hitting it, and had two completely black eyes. It almost looked like he had nothing but sockets. Murdoc sat there utterly shocked at him. Normally he would've chewed their ass out for what they did, but this guy...

"He'd make a damn good front man," he muttered. The doctor and nurses were astonished as well and looked like they might faint. The bluenette did not seem to notice this, however, as he was busy staring at Murdoc.

"Aw, shit. Did I really do that?" he asked, walking over.

"Y... Yeah you did! And you're gonna pay for it too!" Murdoc wasted no time in yelling again. "You three can get out. Me and ass-face here need to talk." Said 'ass-face' was highly offended but didn't say anything. They both looked at the doctor and nurses and waited for them to leave so they could finish their conversation. Collins shot Murdoc a warning glare before shutting the door behind him.

"Who do you think you're callin' ass-face? With your nose all screwed up like that, I'd say it's you." He grinned and Murdoc scowled. Who did he think he was? First he rams him in the face with a car and now he's insulting him? This guy was already irritating enough, what with his voice and all.

"Ya got some nerve even showin' up in here," Murdoc growled. "After what you did I oughta sue you."

"Don't even go there. I already got enough troubles with the cops, I don't need you now. Besides, I don't got any money for you anyways. I only came to say I was sorry." He walked over to the window and leaned against the sill.

"Yeah, you are sorry. I know it, everyone else can see it, even your own bloody mother knows it."

"I'll have you know she loves me very much." He crossed his arms and Murdoc snorted.

"I always heard there was a fine line between love and hate." Now that he was fully awake, his headache was actually getting better despite all the reasons for it to get worse.

"Name's 2D," he said, changing the subject.

"2D? What kinda name is that supposed to be?"

"It's a nickname some people gave me years ago. It's 'cause my eyes. They're sorta dented in."

"So does 2D stand for Two Dents or Too Dumb? Or how about Two-"

"It's Two Dents. You don't need to keep guessing, thanks. I get the feeling I know where that last one was going anyway." Murdoc chuckled.

"Well 2D, I'm still pissed about the car accident, you know. What even made you do that in the first place?" He was actually very curious although he wouldn't admit it.

"I needed something..." was the mumbled reply.

"What was that?"

"I needed some instruments," 2D said, louder this time. He was wringing his wrists and looking down at the floor.

"A ram-raid eh? Not bad. Ya got balls, faceache."

"Um... thanks..." 2D decided to ignore the last part.

"But why a music shop? If it were me, I would've smashed into the nearest bank and mowed down anyone who got in my way." Murdoc sat up in the bed. Most of his sour mood had dissipated and he was actually feeling a lot better.

"I just told you why. I needed instruments."

"For what? A band?"

"Actually, yeah." He looked serious. "I was thinking of forming one."

"Oh yeah? Who've ya got so far?" Now he was genuinely interested.

"No one. It's just me. There was a bassist, but she..." 2D looked sad and Murdoc instantly figured out why.

"She dumped you, eh?"

"What? No! Who said we were ever even dating?"

"You didn't have to. I can figure out when it's woman issues. 'Sides, you're a terrible liar. It was pretty obvious." Murdoc allowed a small smirk to form as he thought about his own love-life.

"Oh. Well, I guess there's no point in hiding it then?" The look on Murdoc's face was all the answer he needed. "She dumped me just before I drove the car down the hill in front of the store."

"Too scared?"

"No..." 2D obviously didn't want to continue but Murdoc sat there making a face that said he should. 2D sighed. "We had a bit of an argument."

"Argument, eh? What about?"

"Why're you prying so much? I don't even know you. Heh, my car actually knows you better." Murdoc growled and shot him a murderous look, but 2D could see that there was no venom in it. It was a pretty funny truth actually.

"Alright. Name's Murdoc Niccals. There. Now you know me." The bluenette snorted. "Let's just say that this is the least you can do for me. Especially since you nearly killed me and screwed up my face." Murdoc grinned evilly as the other man relented.

"Fine. She was cheatin' on me. So, like any mildly sane couple, we had a bit of a spat over it but then the bitch just dumps me. _Me!_ It was like _I_ was the one who did something wrong. Okay, I'll admit: I looked at other women sometimes, but I've never even thought about cheating!" He was very, very upset about the matter and Murdoc supposed he couldn't blame him. While he wasn't one for long-term relationships he still knew that it would hurt to have that kind of problem.

"What was her name anyway?" Murdoc thought that maybe 2D needed to get it all off his chest, which is what prompted the question. However, he was not prepared for the answer.

"Paula Cracker." The lanky man didn't seem to notice Murdoc's sudden discomfort or, if he did, didn't care to show it. He was too busy trying to burn holes into the ground with an intense glare.

Murdoc seized up the moment he heard the name. Surely it couldn't have been the same? Maybe there was just some sort of misunderstanding on his part. He was about to ask but suddenly realized that if he did then he would only make things worse. This was clearly a thorn in the other's side, possibly even more of a twisted knife, so if he were to say something it would immediately cause suspicion and probably a lot of anger. And he really didn't want another car to the face.

"Heh. Well, y'know... Women..." he drawled nervously. He wasn't really certain how he should pick his words around this guy. In his opinion he seemed to be about as dumb as a post, but he could've just been faking or distracted or something. Whatever the reason, he still stuck with the persona.

"Yeah... I know..." Murdoc almost sighed in relief once 2D's anger was gone. For now, at least. It was bound to remain a touchy subject but he should be fine as long as he made sure never to bring it up. At least now he could focus on more important matters.

"So... about that band of yours." 2D instantly perked up. "You need a drummer?" And so began the forming of a beautiful friendship.

Well, almost.

"Hey faceache! Where's my other drumstick?! Are you using it as a frickin' backscratcher again?!"

"NO! Why don't you check up your ass? It's likely to be there!" Several shouts of loud cursing responded to this, followed by thundering footsteps and the sounds of miscellaneous items being tossed about. The already cluttered flat was starting to look like a warzone and, quite frankly, was slowly turning into one. Despite their mutual interest in making music, they shared almost nothing else in common. These two were just too wildly different and as such could not function as a band. They were going to need an awful lot of help if they ever wanted to call themselves one.

* * *

 **A/N: I've been meaning to write something like this for a while now. The idea of having all the characters switch roles seemed like it'd make a pretty good story, not to mention it's pretty darn fun to write. Hope you guys like it.**


	2. Chapter 2

2D groaned in annoyance as he picked up _another_ beer bottle. Sometimes he wondered why he let that freak Murdoc move into his flat. Oh yeah, he needed a drummer. Still, it wasn't really worth it at times. Times like now, when he had to clean up after the slob while he was out doing God knows what. Anything to not help. Maybe he wasn't the cleanest of people-Ok, so maybe clean wasn't really in his vocabulary-but at least his clutter was a little more controlled. Murdoc just flung shit wherever he pleased and got angry when the other man didn't pick it up.

"Shoulda hit you goin' 120. 90 was way too nice," he grumbled, kicking aside some dirty clothes that weren't his. Definitely not touching those. And wait a minute! Those were-

"That filthy bastard!" A certain drummer was going to get it when he got home.

Murdoc stumbled through the door of the small flat around four, still somewhat tipsy from a day of drinking. His plan was to grab a cold one, sprawl on the couch, and stay like that for the rest of the evening. That plan was ruined once he saw 2D looking incredibly pissed.

"What's with you," he said, slurring slightly. 2D pointed to a small bundle of women's clothing articles in front of the sofa. "Okay?"

"I'm very pissed right now, y'know."

"I can see that, faceache... So?"

"Don't 'so' me! You know damn well that those clothes don't belong to either of us. Just what've you been doing while I'm gone?!" 2D was absolutely seething and quickly inventing a new shade of red.

"Heh... Ah ha ha ha ha! It's really more of a question of who." Whether or not the alcohol in Murdoc's system was the cause for his nonchalance at the subject, 2D didn't know. Or care. He'd had just about enough of the other man. Always trashing the place, making him run around and clean up his messes, and, worst of all, apparently throwing the closest thing to sex parties he could have in his home while he was away working. He had 300 hours of community service to do and he did _not_ want to come home to this.

"You... You're sick!" Murdoc merely laughed. "That's it! You're done here! Just get out, will ya?!"

"Oh come on-"

"I mean it! If you don't get your shit together then you can take it all and leave! I'll find a myself a new drummer, I don't need you!" 2D finished his rant and gave Murdoc the most vile glare he could. Murdoc simply stared wide-eyed at the bluenette as he panted and clenched his fists even tighter.

"...Uh... Okay..."

"No. No 'okay.' I mean what I said." 2D's throat was too hoarse to yell anymore, however, he was still going to stand firm. "Start pullin' your weight. I got enough around here to handle, what with the community service and all. The last thing I need is to come home and see this," he waved an arm at the pile of clothes, "lying around the living room. Or worse, seeing the beforehand."

"Alright, alright, I hear ya. It _was_ getting a little messy in here, even for me. I'll start cleaning up after myself, but don't you ever yell at me like you're somethin' special, got it? Try that again and you'll be mopping up your blood." Murdoc finished the threat with a snarl but it didn't do much to the other man aside from making him grunt an agreement and offer his hand.

"You got yourself a deal. Now, no more of this. I swear, let's just form our bloody band and get on with it already. I don't think I can take living alone with you for much longer."

"The feeling's mutual," Murdoc grumbled, shaking his hand.

"Fine. Now if you would please." 2D jerked his head over to Murdoc's clothing mishap and the drummer just sighed and walked over, muttering rude obscenities all the way. The singer/guitarist merely shook his head before heading to his room to have a smoke and enjoy some peace and quiet. There was only so much of Murdoc one could take.

It had been a month since the day 2D and Murdoc first met, not vehicle-to-face but rather in person, and they'd finally started up the tedious task of recruiting band members. They posted ads wherever they could, whether it be a gas station, a pole, or somebody's car (courtesy of Murdoc) and hoped that results would come soon. Murdoc was impatient and was constantly whining about how no one but hippies or wannabes with no talent were the only ones asking so far. Although he wouldn't admit it, 2D was feeling the exact same way. He knew it would be challenging but he never would've thought it'd be this frustrating. Surely there must be someone out there with good talent _._

"Well... It's been two weeks, mate."

"Don't remind me," 2D grumbled, face and arms on the kitchen table, a cup of coffee in front of them.

"There's been absolutely nothing so far."

"I know..."

"Makes you wonder if there's really any talent out there..."

"Will you please shut up?" he snapped, lifting his head and glaring at the other man.

"Hey, don't get cross with me. It's not my fault there's been nothin' but a bunch o' deadbeats so far." Murdoc raised his hands and sprouted his best innocent look. It wasn't very convincing.

"You just love to make others miserable, don't you? We already don't have a real studio, just your set of drums and my guitar, don't make it worse by constantly reminding me that we don't have a band." The bluenette's withered gaze could rival that of someone epically failing their life's goal. It was exactly how he felt right now.

"Well, I'm sure there must be _someone_." He stood silently for a few moments. "I have an idea."

"What?" 2D asked while sipping his coffee.

"I'll be right back..." The younger man knew that the wicked grin on the drummer's face was all the warning he needed for something bad to come. And if that wasn't enough, there was also that sinister tone of his, the one he only got when he was up to no good. He should have stopped him, he really should've, but by the time he mustered up the energy to do so it was too late. Murdoc was out the door and free to wreak havoc upon the city. 2D snorted at the thought of putting him on a leash.

Three hours later, the sound of 2D's car could be heard as it pulled into the driveway. It was old and couldn't be in any worse shape than it already was, which is why he let Murdoc use it whenever he wanted as long as it didn't interfere with his business. The young man had been lying on the couch-which he had cleaned with everything imaginable after he discovered what the poor thing had went through-when Murdoc came bursting into the room.

"Up, faceache! I need your help."

"What's with you?" He was awfully frantic. Hopefully it didn't involve the police. Again.

"C'mon! Just hurry up!" He was already back outside. Sighing, 2D got up to go see what all the fuss was about. Murdoc was hunched over the trunk trying to lift something that was clearly too heavy for him.

"What's this?" He had a bad feeling.

"Don't worry about it. Just help me get it inside, will ya?" Murdoc still had his arms under the massive crate, eyes wide and darting around as though he suspected being caught red-handed at something.

"Hold on," 2D said, lifting a hand. "Is it drugs?"

"No."

"Deadly animal?"

"Nuh-uh."

"Guns?"

"Not even close." Murdoc was starting to get annoyed.

"Some kind of illegal alien technology that you aren't supposed to have and if we don't get rid of it the government will come after us and try to kill us?"

"..." Murdoc's face was the only answer he needed for that one.

"Okay. I guess it can't be too bad then." With that he walked over to help. The second he started to lift, he knew why Murdoc had had such a hard time. Whatever was in this thing weighed a ton. It was a miracle his car's overworked shocks didn't give. Oh wait, the car wasn't tilted like that before. Ah well.

After much grunting and straining the two men had finally carried the crate into the living room, laying it sideways instead of standing it vertically due to its height. Both fell onto the couch and sighed in relief. "Now that we've got this thing in here," 2D started, "you gonna tell me what it is?" It was actually larger than his coffee table.

"Heh." Murdoc's crooked grin looked very suspicious and he felt a twinge of worry. The older man got up to fetch a crowbar and when he came back he looked 2D dead in the eyes. "Now before I open this," he said, smiling nervously and evilly at the same time, "I want you to know that whatever happens, you're a part of it now and there's no backing out. We're in this together, faceache." 2D gulped. He knew he shouldn't have helped him. Being 'together' with Murdoc in anything meant a whole world of trouble.

 ** _Crack_**

The front of the crate was pried off and then shoved to the floor. "Oi! Open your eyes, faceache." 2D was sitting with his hands over his face, silently praying that it wasn't anything too horrible. "Relax. He ain't gonna bite your head off. Well, he might when he wakes up..." At that the man uncovered his eyes. And then screamed in absolute horror.

"OH SHIT! Murdoc! Did you seriously kid-mmph!" A hand was shoved over his mouth in an attempt to quiet him.

"Keep it down, we don't wanna wake him up. Not yet anyway. And we certainly don't want the neighbors to know," he added slyly.

2D was too busy taking very deep breaths to calm himself down. When he finally did, he turned to look at the man next to him. "Who _is_ this?" He was still on the verge of a panic attack. Inside the crate was a large African-American man who looked like he could crush them both with his bare hands. Good thing he was asleep.

"His name's Russel Hobbs," Murdoc said casually, as if they were in some sort of a meeting with the guy.

"And _why_ is he in a crate? In my living room?"

"Because you helped me." He said it like it was the most normal thing in the world.

"No I didn't! I only helped you move the crate in here, not-"

"Exactly! That makes you an accessory." He was grinning madly.

"But I didn't know it was somebody you kidnapped. I thought it might've been music equipment or something." 2D ran a hand down his face. He made a mental note to never, _ever_ help Murdoc with anything he wouldn't tell him about again.

"I don't know why you're so upset. You wanted to form a band, here's your new member."

"What?! I didn't mean for you to kidnap someone! What is wrong with you?" he sighed.

"Listen, mate, I-"

"Ugghhhh..." Both men looked at Murdoc's victim, who was coming to.

"What do we tell him?" Murdoc whispered to 2D.

"We? You mean you. _You_ did this; you tell him," 2D whispered back, jabbing a finger into his chest.

"Where... Where am I?" They stopped bickering instantly. 2D glanced fearfully at Murdoc, who returned the look. The man, Russel, slowly sat up and rubbed his eyes. When his mind finally cleared itself of the remaining fog he looked over and saw two men staring at him like deer in headlights.

"Um... Hi." 2D awkwardly raised a hand in a half-hearted attempt at a greeting. Murdoc quickly followed suit.

"Who are you?" Russel asked cautiously, obviously unsure of them.

"I-I'm 2D. My real name's Stuart but everybody calls me 2D. It's cuz my eyes. They uh... yeah, eyes..." His nervous rambling trailed off at the sight of Russel's milky white eyes narrowing in suspicion. He may not be one to say anything on the matter of eyes, but the sight of pure white ones was somehow more unsettling to him than his own or even Murdoc's red one.

"Where am I?" he asked angrily, now that he remembered being kidnapped. "Why did you bring me here?" He stood up and stepped out of the crate before taking one menacing stomp towards the couch 2D and Murdoc were on. The latter was up and ten feet away before 2D even had the chance to squeal at the immense threat before him.

"Don't kill me!" he begged, bringing his lanky arms over his face as if they would protect him from the other man.

"Hold on a second, big guy! Don't squish him, he's fragile!" Murdoc finally decided it was time for him to step in and do something... from the other side of the room.

"What's going on here? Why was I in a crate? It was you, wasn't it? You look like the type of jackass who'd do somethin' like this. C 'mere!" Russel instantly ignored 2D and stormed over to Murdoc, picking him up by his collar.

"I have a perfectly good reason!" he tried, hoping to get out of his death grip.

"I knew I shouldn't have listened to you about the crate!" 2D cried from the couch, knees to his chest and fingers ensnared tightly in his hair.

"Now's not the time for trust issues, faceache!" He meant it. If 2D worked himself up to the point of a migraine then he'd be pummeled to death by the large man before him. Not at all how he wanted to go.

"You got ten seconds," Russel growled in his face.

"I only need five! You wanna be in the most kickass band of the century?" Murdoc asked in his most convincing tone.

There was a long silence before, "Band?! Are you telling me that you knocked me out, kidnapped me, and then brought me here just to be in some band?" Russel was so incredulous that he dropped the drummer to the ground, forgetting about punching him.

"What's so surprising about it?" Now that he was free, talking was no longer limited. "You were at that music festival; everyone said you were exceptional."

"So you _kidnap_ me?" He could feel his eyebrows raising to the ceiling out of pure disbelief.

"Well yeah. Was I supposed to _ask_ you? Think about it," he added quickly as soon as Russel opened his mouth. "Looking at a guy like me, if I'd come up to you and said something like, 'Hey mate. Wanna join a band? I'm the drummer and the only other member is this bloke with no eyes who's a singer and guitarist, but we need more than that so how 'bout it?' would you have really taken me seriously?"

Russel thought about it for a moment while looking him up and down. "No. I would've told you to get away from me, and then called the police. Or an asylum."

"See? Now does it make sense why I had to kidnap you?" As much as he wanted to deny Murdoc's claim, he really couldn't. If the man had approached him back at the festival with an offer like that he certainly would've made a few phone calls. Trapping him here with no other option but to listen really was his best bet. He still felt like he should get in touch with an asylum though.

"Whatever," he said, frustrated. "So... You're a drummer?"

"Yeah," he drawled, somewhat creepily.

"You certainly don't look it."

"Hey! I'll have you know that I'm very good at what I do." He suddenly chuckled and grinned after the statement and Russel changed the subject to avoid any unwanted information.

"And I take it he's the singer you mentioned?" He nodded to 2D, who was still cowering on the couch.

"Yeah, faceache's good, I'll give him that. Voice of an angle, I always say."

"...Right. Is he okay?" Russel could hear quiet whimpering as the bluenette tried to curl in on himself and hold his head even tighter.

"Oh yeah. He's fine. He just does that sometimes." Murdoc waved him off nonchalantly and Russel made a note that if he did ever become involved with these two-which he totally wasn't considering joining their band-he should not rely on the older man for medical assistance.

"He doesn't sound fine," Russel said, walking over and gently placing a hand on his shoulder, which shook lightly under the massive appendage. "Hey, man. You okay?" He was given unintelligible muttering as a response. "What was that?" he asked, leaning closer.

"Need... my pills..."

"Pills?"

"Oh! He gets real bad headaches so he's got a shitload o' painkillers for it. Lucky bastard just gets an endless supply of 'em. Must be nice," Murdoc grumbled. 2D whined again. "Alright, alright. Don't start bawling now, I'll get your pills for you." He left the room and Russel could hear a lot of rattling, banging and cursing before he finally returned with a small orange bottle. "These the right ones?" 2D snatched the bottle and gulped down four pills dry without even reading the label.

"Is he supposed to do that?" Russel asked, shocked, while the young man simply handed the bottle back and uncurled himself a little.

"Yeah, yeah, it's fine," Murdoc muttered absently, deciding to ignore the 'No more than half' warning on the label. He'd try and talk to the bluenette on that issue later. "So what do you say on my offer?"

Russel turned his attention away from 2D to give Murdoc an unimpressed look. "You seriously think I'm gonna join your nonexistent band after you kidnapped me?" Inside, however, the thought was actually a little exciting. Despite how good everyone said he was no one had ever offered him a spot on a band, or anything at all, really. He was 'too scary' because of his eyes and people tended to be a little freaked out by him once they heard his history. These two, however, didn't seem like they'd care in the slightest. It was a small bit of comfort.

"We're not nonexistent," Murdoc said defensively. "Here's me and here's faceache." He gestured to each respectively. "That's two whole members. You'd make three, and then we'd just need one more. What instrument do you play again?" Russel face palmed.

"So you kidnap me to join your band because you heard I was talented, but you never checked to see what instrument I played?" Murdoc shrugged. "I sure hope you're not planning on being the front man," he sighed.

"Are you kidding? If I was the front man people wouldn't be able to handle this band," he said conceitedly. "That'd be too high a level of Murdoc Niccals genius for the fans. They'd go completely insane. No. 2D there's the front man. We had to tone it down a little."

 _I bet you did,_ Russel thought humorously. "Well, since you were too stupid to find out, I'll tell you. I play the keyboard." Murdoc instantly began laughing. "And what's so funny about that?" he asked angrily. He'd had enough teasing about how that was girly or stupid, he wasn't gonna take anymore.

"You? Keyboard? Ha ha ha ha! I can't believe it! Do you have them special made or something? There's no way you can play a keyboard with those meatballs of yours! You'd smash the whole thing to bits!" He was laughing so hard that he didn't notice the man close the distance.

"I can do the same thing to your skull," he said, hoisting him up again.

"Murdoc, quit makin' fun of him. He's already pissed you kidnapped him." 2D's migraine had subsided shortly after he downed the pills, he just didn't speak up because he didn't want to ruin their chances of a new band member. Murdoc may have been a snake, but he was better with words. Sometimes.

"You should listen to your friend there." He dropped the drummer to his feet.

"Hey, uh, Russ-I can call ya Russ, right?" The man shrugged. "Well, uh, anyway, I know it's super awkward and weird to be asked like this." He glared at Murdoc as he said this. "But we really need another member. I don't know if you've seen our ads-"

"Those are yours? Who made 'em?"

"Murdoc."

"Figures..."

"Oi! What's wrong with 'em? I worked hard for those." Apparently there was no problem with posting 'Looking for real talent. If you're not a moron, please come see us. Also, NO HIPPIES' all over the town.

"They could use some work," Russel said.

"Told you it was stupid."

"Shut up, you little twerp."

"Anyway, we could really use a keyboardist. I'm a singer and guitarist, and Murdoc's a drummer, but you can't have much of a band with that. You could really help pull everything together and make this more of a band and less of wanting to murder the person standing right next to you."

"I'd like to see you try," Murdoc growled.

Russel looked between them for a minute. It was an honest offer despite the means and he really did want to do something with his music. If these two were willingly accepting him into their newly formed band then who would he be to refuse? Who knows? Maybe, with a few more members and a lot more self control on the drummer's part, they could really skyrocket. "Alright. I'll join," he said, clapping the singer roughly on the shoulder. "Just, no more surprises. I don't wanna wake up one morning and find myself in a briefcase somewhere in Siberia or something."

"Heh. Don't worry, mate. That was only to get you here. No more of that, trust me. It was way too much work." Murdoc's crooked grin didn't hold much comfort, but at least it had enough assurance that he was telling the truth.

"Okay. So you guys got a studio or something?"

"Nope," they said in unison.

"We got my flat, my guitar, a tape recorder, and Murdoc's drums," 2D said, listing each one off on his fingers.

"That's it?" Russel was a little surprised at the lack of equipment for people who wanted to become a band.

"There's a toilet," the bluenette offered.

"He means music equipment, stupid."

"There's Murdoc himself too, if you ever wanna try stepping on him to see what sort o' sound he makes," he said casually, pointing a thumb at the other man. "Personally, I think he'd be like bagpipes. Really loud and grating, y'know? 'Course he's already like-OW!" Murdoc swatted him in the back of the head hard enough for the resounding smack to make Russel flinch.

"That's enough outta you!" he barked. "I'd rather be bagpipes than a sorry-ass pansy, ya twat!" As the two men bickered Russel just sighed and brought a hand to his face. Only time would tell if they'd be successful as a band, but it certainly didn't take long for it to tell that there'd be quite a bit of arguing along the way.

"Do you at least have a name in mind?" he asked, stopping their fighting. Both men looked at each other and then shrugged.

"We haven't really put much thought into it," 2D said.

"We need something that's edgy, y'know? But nothing mainstream. I don't want this band to be like anything else; it has to stand out. Something that people would instantly recognize as us and us alone." Murdoc crossed his arms and racked his brain for a good name.

"Well... There was one name I had in mind before the whole, uh, ram-raid thing," 2D said quietly.

"Ram-raid?" Russel asked, concerned at what these two got themselves into.

"Don't worry about it," Murdoc snapped sharply while subconsciously tracing a finger over his messed up nose. "This was all your idea in the first place, faceache. I'm sure your names are probably stupid compared to mine, but go ahead anyway."

"Um... How about... Gorilla?" He sat waiting for the inevitable rejection he was likely to get. To his surprise, none came.

"That's actually not too bad," Murdoc said approvingly. "It's got a nice little ring to it."

"Feels like it's missing something though," Russel added.

"We'll figure that out later. For now, our name is Gorilla. And we'll be the number one, most badass band on the planet!" the drummer announced. The other two just shared an amused glance. The three of them alone would make the band stand out regardless of their music, but they'd soon find out just how good they could make it.

* * *

 **I hope you guys like this so far. This has been one of my favorite chapters to write because it was just so much fun with Russel's kidnap scene and how 2D and Murdoc have been living with each other. The rest of the story will probably be the same way for me. By the way, if anyone was wondering, at the beginning of the chapter when 2D says he should've been going 120, it was in kilometers, not miles.**


	3. Chapter 3

The three members of 'Gorilla' were seated at 2D's kitchen table, each one staring intently at the other two over their cards. Finally, Murdoc broke his poker face and slammed his hand on the table with a wicked grin, revealing three of a kind and a very smug look directed right at the bluenette. 2D 'hmphed' and shot up out of his seat before chucking his cards at the other man's face and stomping out the room.

"Junk," Murdoc laughed. "He's so bad at poker. For someone with no eyes and very little sense you'd think he'd be harder to read." His humor dried up as soon as he saw what Russel had laid down.

"What's the matter, Muds? If you don't like a full house then you can just leave," he said, grinning. Murdoc just glared. And demanded they try again, like they'd been doing for the past hour or so. And for that entire time Russel had done nothing but win. They'd eventually run out of what very little money they had and started raiding the cabinets for a decent equivalent. Well, there were at least some potato chips and beer for everyone, but with Russel consistently beating the two of them the entire stack of goods was on his end of the table. 2D was right to leave, no matter how childishly he did so. Truth be told, the keyboardist had wanted to do the same thing thirty minutes back. Murdoc was seriously driving him nuts with his over-determination to win at least once. The man was a sore loser but he couldn't be like the singer, oh no. He had to keep at it until he broke your streak and could gloat about it for the next two hours or so and then he'd be fine. At least until it happened again.

"Well fuck me!" Murdoc cried after three more losses. "How are you so much better at this than I am? I even cheated the last two rounds and you still won!"

"And now I'm done," Russel said, standing up and stretching.

"You're not done, not until I beat you."

"Shut up already, Muds. You lost 'cause you're a lousy cheater." He was already heading for the door.

"You sayin' you're better at cheating than me?" he asked, annoyed he'd been outdone at it and secretly impressed at the same time.

"Nope. You said that." With that he left a fuming drummer.

"Well... I also say you're pathetic, fat ass!" He grumbled when he got no response and snatched up one of the many beers piled on the table.

2D was stretched across the couch, absently strumming his guitar while he watched the boring infomercial play out.

"Any reason why you're watching this crap?" Russel asked, entering the room.

"Eh. It was on when I clicked on the telly. I'm so bored right now," he groaned. "There's been nothin' from our ads even though we changed 'em, we haven't gotten anymore equipment besides your stuff, I still got way too many hours of community service to do, and, to top all that off, we can't even finish our first song."

"Sure we can," the keyboardist said reassuringly.

"Not without a bassist, we can't," the bluenette sighed. "We'll never get off the ground at this rate." His mood was rapidly sinking into borderline depression.

"Well, how come you wanna be in a band so badly?"

"'Cause I just do!" he shouted. Quickly calming down he added, "It's important to me. That's all." Sensing that it wasn't a good idea to ask anymore, Russel took the remote.

"Can I change this?" While a new vacuum cleaner would be nice, they certainly didn't have the money for this one.

"Yeah, sure." The infomercial suddenly became some cooking channel and 2D's stomach lasted all of two minutes before rumbling loudly. "I'm gonna get something to eat," he said, getting up and hanging the guitar off his shoulder. "Don't let Murdoc do anything illegal."

"You got a rope and a Taser?"

"Nope."

"Then I can't make any promises." 2D just chuckled before grabbing his keys, stuffing his guitar in a gig bag, and heading out the door. Normally, he wouldn't bring it anywhere out the house because he didn't want anything happening to it, but sometimes he wanted to go find somewhere quiet where he could be alone and just play. He used to do the same when he was home, but couldn't now because he'd never have true peace with the other two around.

The bluenette strode down the street, whistling whatever tunes he could think of while keeping an eye out for secluded spots. He'd first tried the park but found that it was packed full of people who were having a party. His next thought was perhaps the back of a small building or maybe even an alleyway, but after giving it quick consideration he realized it was a stupid idea; the odds of him being mugged over his guitar were quite high. Just when he was about to lose all hope he spotted a little cozy-looking café and coffee shop that seemed both quiet and empty. Quickening his pace he headed towards it. As he stepped inside a little bell jingled and he was glad to see that it was indeed empty, save for a few staff members. He took a seat in the very back corner, far away from both the entrance and the kitchen, that way no one would disturb him unless they were bringing him something.

"Hey there. Would you like a coffee?" A medium height red-head with deep green eyes handed him a menu and stood waiting for his answer. Her hair simply hung straight and went a bit lower than shoulder length and she did not wear make-up, or anything special, really. Still, 2D thought she was kind of cute and enjoyed the sound of her voice coupled with a thick Southern accent; she just seemed so adorable to him.

"Uh, I'll have some coffee, thanks." His stomach chose that exact moment to remind him of its hunger.

"Well, it seems like you might be having more than that," she laughed. 2D blushed a little. "I'll give you some time to think it over while I get your coffee. My name's Annie." She smiled at him and left, and he felt his spirits rising for the first time in days. Being in a band was so much more stressful than he thought it would be. Or rather, being in a band with Murdoc was more stressful than he thought it would be. The singer just hummed to himself and read through the menu. It didn't have anything amazing but he wasn't really looking for a five-star meal here. As Annie came back with a cup of coffee and some creamer he closed the menu and went to hand it to her.

"I'll just have a grilled cheese, love."

"That's all?" she asked as she wrote the order. He nodded and thanked her for the coffee, and she went off to the kitchen window to post his order. It wouldn't take long, but he grabbed his guitar and began to strum a few chords. It helped him think up new ideas sometimes and also served as a good relaxation method. 2D continued to sit there, strumming and sipping coffee, until his order came. He set his beloved guitar aside when Annie set down a plate with a perfectly cooked grilled cheese and another with two eggs over easy.

"I didn't order any eggs," he said, confused as to how a mix-up could happen when he was the only one there with the simplest of orders.

"I know. It's on the house," Annie responded brightly. "The way your stomach growled, I figured you'd need a little more than a sandwich. You don't wanna get any thinner," she joked. "If you need anything else, you know who to call."

"Ghostbusters?" he said humorously. She paused for a moment before bursting out into fits of laughter. Truth be told, he didn't like Ghostbusters-it wasn't scary at all like his favored zombie flicks-but it randomly came to mind when she said that and he decided to try his hand at a joke himself.

"Yeah, sure!" she said, finally calming down. 2D didn't realize it at first, but he had been laughing too. It seemed Annie's positive attitude and laughter was very contagious. Just as she was about to say something else the bell jingled and she walked off to go take care of the new customer. 2D listened to the newcomer give their-no, her-order as he started on his food. After she ordered she said something else, but it was so quiet that he couldn't make out a single word. Something about that set him off and the fact that he couldn't figure out why made alarm bells sound in his head and the hair on his neck stand ever-so-slightly. Something just wasn't right and the way Annie scampered off to deliver the order without a single trace of her previous smile chilled him even more.

Within ten minutes 2D had finished everything and Annie returned to clean up his dishes and offer him more coffee. "That'd be nice," he said with a smile. She returned it, but it wasn't nearly as bright as before. Now things were really going off in his head. It had to have something to do with the other customer. Whatever she said really upset the young waitress.

"'Scuse me," she called from her booth. Annie told her just a minute, poured him some fresh coffee, and then went over to see what she wanted. All the while the bluenette sat there wracking his brain for answers. Why was Annie so disturbed by this woman? Were they enemies or something? That wouldn't make sense. It didn't seem like they really knew each other and if they were enemies then wouldn't Annie be angry? Why was he even worrying?

He was beginning to think himself into a migraine, and being in public without his pills was a worst case scenario. Taking deep breaths to clear his mind of the troubling thoughts, he picked up his guitar again and began strumming anything that came to mind. The motion relaxed him and the sound was always a welcome comfort, amp or no amp. Eventually his mind wandered to their unfinished song, which was named 'Ghost Train.' His hands began to play it on their own and he found himself absently humming the lyrics before beginning to softly sing them. His eyes were closed so he didn't notice the surprised looks that Annie and the cook were giving him.

"Come on, come on, come on..." he sang quietly. They didn't actually have the right equipment for the song. Sure, they all knew what they wanted to do, but they only had so much space in 2D's flat and only so many instruments. And, of course, only so much money. Murdoc had said he wanted a different sort of sound for the drums, something akin to bongos, which he did not have and couldn't afford. He slapped the bluenette for suggesting he buy a cheap set from the music shop downtown because, "That silly shit's not good enough for this music's song!" Before the younger man could even point out the fact that he'd likely only use them once anyway-or remind him that he was too wasted to make decent choices-Murdoc had promptly vomited the near equivalent to a liter of vodka all over his kitchen floor. The singer tossed him a mop and walked out before he became a part of it, both figuratively and literally. Russel had also reminded them that in order to record a song, they would need a studio. Definitely not in their budget.

As 2D continued with the song he suddenly envisioned the perfect bassline. Something that brought everything together perfectly. If boosted through an amp, the deep chords would resonate so wonderfully alongside his guitar and Murdoc's... bongos. Oh man, that sounded wrong. The singer crinkled his brow and focused harder on his playing to ignore and hopefully forget all Murdoc-related thoughts. Eventually he reached the end of the song and began jamming, the bass still keeping up. When he finished he realized two things. The first was that the bassline he imagined wasn't in his head at all; he was actually hearing it. The second was that it was coming from the far booth where the other customer was sitting. Completely forgetting his previous worries about the woman, 2D got up and walked over to speak with her.

"Hey, miss," he started, being as friendly as possible. "You're really good. That song's not even finished yet and you-"

"First of all, Stu, honey, you shouldn't be surprised that I'm good. You already knew that. Second, of course I could keep up with your silly playing. It's so basic."

"Paula?!" 2D was too in shock to even register what she just said.

"What? Now you don't even know me anymore? I didn't think a guy like you would really have it in him to cut me off like that." She looked at him over her sunglasses, seemingly disappointed.

"I-what... h-how..." The bluenette stopped stuttering when she brought a hand up.

"Why're you so surprised to see me? We broke up; I didn't leave the country or anything."

"No. No, of course not." He finally regained control of his voice. "I just didn't expect to see you again like this."

"Well, I'm sorry I busted your little flirt session with Miss Southern Comfort over there." Paula shot Annie a vile glare as she said this and it suddenly occurred to 2D why the young woman had been so upset. Seeing Annie's despondent and shamed face-caused by his ex of all people-ignited an anger he didn't even know he had.

"Hey, we broke up, remember? Or rather, you told me I was a sodding, no good shitbag. I can't recall the rest, but it was something along those lines." He folded his arms to emphasize his next point. "Anyway, we're not a couple and we haven't been for a while now, so... Is there any reason why you should care if I am having a 'flirt session?' I don't see why I should stay single my whole life. Just because our relationship is over doesn't mean I can't find somebody else."

Paula opened her mouth to respond with the cruelest thing she could think of but then snapped it shut. Taking a few calming breaths she tried to keep her cool and stay on track with what she had originally come in here to do. "Listen, Stu. About that..."

"Oh. I see how it is. First you give me a miserable three year relationship, then you cheat on me, and now you wanna make amends after being the one to cut it off. I hate those sappy romance flicks that girls watch, but even I know what's expected at a time like this. You want me to feel all sorry for you because you came to me and apologized, and me being a man I was just a horrible person even though I wasn't the one who was unfaithful."

"Stu..." His words were becoming more and more spiteful and sarcastic.

"How's this? I'm SO SORRY, Paula! Oh, whatever was I thinking? Giving up on a girl like you? Oh, it's an absolute crime, it is. I should be allowed to rot in prison for eternity!" Bringing his arm to his head in a melodramatic fashion and tilting slightly off center, he fell to one knee and finished with, "Please forgive me, Paula. You're the light of my life. I could never live with the thought of you hating me. Why, it's enough to drive a sane man to suicide!" Finally done with his little show, he stood up and glared at her.

"I don't expect that," was all she said after many moments of tense silence. The cook and Annie had disappeared into the back after realizing these two would need some privacy.

"Oh yeah? Then what do you expect?" She remained silent, seemingly thinking, and then shrugged. "Figures." He walked back to his booth and, grabbing his guitar, gave Paula a rude look before walking past her and out the door without another word.

Paula merely stood silently as the blue-haired man she once shared a relationship with strode past. She _had_ wanted to apologize, but when she saw him here talking to that waitress something just... She sighed. It was her only chance to make amends and she had to ruin it by being a bitch. They weren't even really flirting; the waitress was just very friendly and 2D was never one to be rude. At least, not usually...

"Well, this'll be the last chance I'll ever get," she muttered to herself before sliding back into her booth and staring at her coffee as though it could help her. The bell over the door suddenly jangled violently and a very flustered 2D came rushing back in. His black orbs immediately settled on Annie, who had just emerged from the back now that the fighting had stopped.

"Hey," he said quickly, taking long strides to her. "How much do I owe you? I just realized I forgot to pay." He honestly did forget. She never had the chance to give him his bill and once that whole thing with Paula happened, the entire prospect of paying slipped his mind when he was trying to look like an impressive badass.

Once he paid the money, a measly four pounds and a nice tip for Annie, he headed back the way he came all the while ignoring Paula. Said woman was unhappy about it but, suddenly getting an idea, she grabbed her bass and followed him.

"Get lost, Paula," 2D said coldly, stopping dead in his tracks once he realized she was trailing him like a lost puppy.

"Please, Stu, just let me-"

"Just let you what? Tell me off again? Try to pin everything on me? Like that's going to happen." He walked briskly away, but she still kept after him.

"If you would just let me finish a bloody sentence, I could-"

"I don't even wanna hear it! Just go away already." His walk became a jog, which slowly morphed into a run before finally becoming a full-on sprint. The entire time Paula still chased him. "Will you leave me alone?!" Now running like he deserved Olympic gold, 2D weaved his way through groups of people and around corners with the hope that he'd lose the girl he thought had gone mental. After keeping up this pace for about ten minutes or so his legs finally gave out and he stumbled to a stop before hunching over. Checking his surroundings he saw that he was in the park, only he was a good distance away from the party and there was no Paula in sight. He was already in the lovely shade of a tree so he figured now was a good time as any to rest. 2D gingerly set his guitar against the bark, took one very deep breath, let it out, and collapsed onto his back. He hummed to himself as he watched the leaves of the tree rustle in the breeze, trying his absolute best to forget all about Paula.

He eventually did clear his mind of her and began to jumble around song ideas. Random word combinations was one technique that helped him think up lyrics. It was pretty hit and miss though. On days like this one, when something had happened to upset him, the only words that came to mind were those pertaining to the incident. He switched to a new tactic once 'Paula' and 'bassist' continuously swirled around. A leaf floated through the air and landed on his chest, so he decided to sing about his surroundings.

Closing his eyes, he tried, "Gravity-y-y-y-y... on me... Never let me down, yeah, yeah. Gravity-y-y-y-y-y... with me... Never let me down, no, no, no..." That actually sounded much better than he thought it would. Not the best, but something could be done with it, he was sure of that. He'd keep it in the back of his mind for later. For now, he felt he should probably head back home before a certain psycho found him. With the way she was acting, he was beginning to worry that she might break out the chloroform. He shuddered and reached for his guitar, only to notice that it wasn't there. Panicked, he looked all around only to see the person he dreaded holding it.

"You can have this back _after_ you hear what I have to say, got it?" Not waiting for an answer, Paula pushed her sunglasses up and shoved 2D when he tried to get his guitar. "You're obviously aggravated so I'll be quick." She took a breath. "I'm sorry about cheating. Really, I am." He rolled his eyes, she could tell, but she still persisted. "I know I can be a bit of a bitch sometimes... Okay, so a lot of the time. And I'm sorry for that, honest. After the whole cheating thing and the argument we had I just... I've been thinking and I realized something: I'm a horrible person. I mean, I always nagged at you over the stupidest things, I cheated on you and acted like it was your fault, I didn't even help you when you got arrested for hittin' that poor bloke in the face."

 _Poor bloke, my ass,_ 2D thought, remembering the very alive and very obnoxious drummer who was currently contaminating his residence.

"Then there's earlier. What I did at the diner was just plain cruel. And now this..." She looked pretty genuine, but 2D still didn't want to trust her. Sure, the better half of him, the one that was as nice as possible, wanted to forgive her and welcome her back with open arms. The darker part of him, the one that had lashed out earlier, was screaming at him to turn around and walk away. She was lying. Had to be. The rest of him just wanted his guitar back.

"Look, Paula, I-" Before he could finish she had pulled him to her and kissed him. He was going to resist but then he just... didn't. He was too shocked by it to do much other than stand there like a statue.

"Hm. You were much better at that before," she said, pulling away. "I guess you've just gotten a little rusty." She tried to kiss him again but he backed away.

"That's your apology?" he asked, more astonished than anything. Did she seriously think that by kissing him he'd just forgive her?

"No. You already heard my apology. There isn't much else to say aside from the fact that I'm a complete jerkass for ever doing this to you." She sighed and handed him his guitar back. He took it, but still continued to stare at her as though she were from another planet. "I saw your ad," she said suddenly. "I know what you're thinking but... If you don't ever find someone, I'm available." With that she walked away, leaving 2D to reflect on everything that was said.

The man just uttered a few unintelligible sounds before walking away in a huff. The nerve of her! Acting like that and then this pitiful... show. A sorry attempt at an apology is what it really was. There was no way he would just forgive her, not like this! She should've been a thousand times more sincere if she wanted him to even consider forgiveness, let alone joining his band. There wasn't a single chance for her. Not now, not ever.

...Damn, did his head hurt.

Murdoc was heading to the front door to see if there was any mail for him to snoop through when it swung open and nearly hit him. 2D, not so much as mumbling an apology, stormed right past him and in the direction of his room. "What's with you?" Murdoc called, receiving the slam of a door in response. Quirking a brow, he went to sit next to Russel in the living room. "What's with him?" he asked, snatching the remote out of the other man's hands to begin flipping though channels at a ridiculous pace.

"How would I know? He just got back, so it had to be something that happened while he was out." He took the remote back from the drummer and returned the channel to the movie he had been watching.

"What do you think it was?" Murdoc snatched the remote again.

"Something that would piss him off, obviously," he growled, getting annoyed with the older man's antics. He roughly forced the remote out of his hands.

"But I've never seen faceache get pissed off before. Usually he only gets upset. And then he whines a lot." He once again went to grab the remote from Russel, only this time the keyboardist saw it coming and grabbed his hand.

"I swear, man. If you try to take this thing one more time, you'll need to use those drumsticks of yours as fingers, got it?" When Murdoc slipped his hand out his grasp, grumbled something, and folded his arms, he relaxed. At least until the remote was taken from him _again,_ the channel changed, and the device flung across the room. The drummer then took off himself, leaving an annoyed Russel to deal with the issue. "That damn fool just had to throw it, didn't he?" He could see the remote on the floor by some shoes, but he really didn't feel like making his way over to it. Only when he saw what was on the TV did he leap up to fetch it. "That sickass," he muttered, changing the channel back to something far more appropriate and less morally questionable.

"Hey, faceache!" Murdoc shouted, banging on 2D's door. "You gonna come out or are you gonna stay in there and pout like a teenage girl for the rest of your life?"

"Sod off," came the response.

"And miss out on a chance to make you more miserable than ever? I don't think so." He continued to pound on the door as hard as he could. 2D wouldn't even give him the time of day. "If you don't open up, I'll smash this door down." He could hear what sounded like a chuckle and a very sarcastic comment, so he decided to stay true to his word.

2D swallowed a few pills and was getting up to go let Murdoc in when he heard retreating footsteps. Finding it odd that the man had given up so easily, he walked to the door and fiddled with the lock until it finally turned. He heard rapidly approaching footsteps and some sort of Murdoc Niccals battle cry all of a sudden. Opening the door to see what exactly was going on, he was tackled to the floor with a loud thud and quickly became aware that the cause was lying right on top of him.

"Ah gross! Muds, get off me!" 2D started flailing and trying to shove the drummer away.

"Argh! Get away! Disgusting!" Murdoc rolled off and immediately leapt to his feet to create much needed space. "Just what did you go and do that for?" he asked, still disturbed by the whole thing.

"Wha-I didn't do anything! You were the one who came flying in here like a lunatic. How's it my fault?" 2D dusted the dirt and Murdoc germs off himself while furthering the distance a little more.

"You shouldn'ta opened the door when you heard me coming. I made sure to be loud enough."

"I was wondering what on earth that was," he said, annoyed the drummer was trying to blame him.

"And that right there is the problem, faceache. You were wondering. Wondering requires thinking, something you shouldn't be trying to do."

"It beats you trying to look good in front of women when all they see is Frankenstein's mutt." As the two men argued Russel sighed and brought a hand to his head. Sometimes he wondered why he agreed to this. After they went on for a few more minutes he decided that enough was enough and went to go solve the problem.

"You keep this up and I'll beat you so badly that you'll need to breathe through a tube for the rest of your life. I'll be sure to spit in it too." Murdoc jabbed his finger sharply into the singer's throat.

"Yeah? Well, I'll-"

"STOP." Russel's large frame filled the doorway and his ghastly glare made both men freeze on the spot. "Why can't you two morons just get along?" he asked, exasperated.

"The same reason why you can't join a Zumba class, tubby," Murdoc retorted.

"He's always so mean to me," 2D said, pointing a finger.

"Oh, boo-hoo."

"Okay, seriously, knock it off right now." Russel's frustration with these two was reaching critical levels. "D, if anyone was to blame for startin' this, it's probably you, 'cause you had an attitude as soon as you walked in." The drummer shot the man in question a victory face. "Don't look so cocky, Muds. If you weren't such a dumbass then none of this woulda happened." Russel ignored their glowers and continued. "You wanna explain to us why you're so upset, D?"

"Who cares? It's probably just that time of the month." Murdoc folded his arms and leaned against the wall while 2D attempted to burn him with intense glaring.

"That explains you then, now doesn't it?" Russel grinned and kept talking before he received a snide remark. "Seriously, though. What's up, man? You're never really like this."

2D sighed and debated whether or not he should tell them about Paula. Catching their faces, one impatient and the other becoming increasingly concerned, he gave it one final consideration before settling on, "I just saw someone I didn't really wanna see and we got in a bit of an argument. I'm still a little pissed off about what they said."

"Which was...?"

"Um... nothing important to you." He wasn't expecting Murdoc to suddenly take interest. He couldn't come up with any other way to avoid talking.

"He doesn't have to tell us all that, Muds." 2D nearly sighed in relief at Russel's intervention. "So you just had a bad day. I'm sure things will go more smoothly later on." He gave him a reassuring pat on the shoulder.

"Yeah, hopefully," the bluenette said, trying to ignore Murdoc's scrutinizing gaze. "That reminds me though. We gotta find a studio before we find a bassist and anyone else."

"Why?" the other two asked in unison.

"'Cause where are we gonna put anymore gear? Or people? The three of us take up enough space as is. Look around. It's startin' to get a little cramped in here." He was right. The flat was only meant to comfortably house a grand total of two people; three was really pushing the limits. 2D was a little cluttered, Murdoc was straight up filthy, and Russel was just huge in the little home. Then there was the matter of their instruments. A guitar, keyboards, and a small amp or two were one thing, but an entire drum kit just took up too much space. If another person was added to the mix then the place would be like living in a can of sardines. Not to mention the single bathroom they had to share. There would be murders if the waiting list got any longer.

"Faceache's right," Murdoc said, annoyed to even acknowledge the fact. "We can't even half practice in here; the neighbors keep complaining. We need somewhere that's big, is far enough away from people that they can't call the cops on us, has an awesome studio, and more than one tiny little bathroom." They all agreed on this.

"But that stuff's not gonna be cheap, Muds," Russel pointed out, considering the facts. "A decent studio in itself is pretty pricey. How're we gonna afford what you're describing?" The drummer scratched his stubble while thinking of an honest answer.

"You know, I don't actually have all the nitty-gritty planned out, but... I'm certain I can come up with something." He took on a sort of sinister thoughtful look and the other two men exchanged worried glances as to what this might mean.

"Please don't kidnap anybody, Muds. We can always save up our money and buy something that's a little nicer than this." 2D was thinking of all the different scenarios in which the older man could end up arrested. Or worse.

"D's right. We'll just have to hold back on some of the beer and cigarettes for a while."

"I didn't say all that, Russ!" 2D shouted, aghast. Giving up on drinking and smoking was like telling him to lay off his pills or quit breathing.

"Yeah! Why should we have to give up on our habits while you get to keep indulging yours?"

"I don't indulge in anything," the keyboardist said defensively.

"Oh really? Then how come every time one of us goes grocery shopping, half the bloody food is gone by the next day?"

"It's this thing called cooking, Murdoc. You eat the food too." This was very treacherous terrain they were on, however, Murdoc wasn't one to be cautious.

"Sorry, fatass, but I'm not exactly known to have a healthy diet. How often have you blokes ever even seen me eat?" 2D and Russel each thought about it and realized that they never had actually seen Murdoc eat anything. Usually, he was either drinking or smoking or quite possibly draining the life out of his various 'girlfriends,' but other than that...

"Exactly," he said once he saw their faces. "I'm no garbage disposal like you, Russ. Faceache eats, but he downs more of those stupid pills than he does actual food, so you can't pin the blame on him. The only other person here is you. Unless you're going to say that a ghost has snuck in and is being a pain in the arse by eating all our stuff." He snorted. "If there's anything we need to lay off of, it's you and your Shamu diet."

"You got your nerve. You and 2D each look like a couple o' chimneys with all the cigarettes you go through. And don't even get me started on your drinking."

"Okay, okay!" 2D shouted, feeling his headache from Paula return. "Since we can't agree to give up on anything, let's just try to look for someplace that's dirt cheap."

"Uh, Earth to faceache. We're standing in it!"

"A little less cheap than this, then. And with at least one other bathroom." Murdoc gave a small shrug and Russel simply nodded. "We'll have to start looking ASAP."

"It's not like there's any rush. We haven't heard a single thing from our ads. We're the last of the world's real talent."

"Yeah, okay, you don't need to remind me that no one's so much as called."

"Yes I do. I also need to remind you that you're a useless little piece of shit that's not fit to be dog food." Murdoc finished with a freakishly wide grin and took two big steps closer to 2D before getting directly in his face.

"What are you doing?" he asked, concerned over the sudden proximity.

"I'm eating," he said matter-of-factly.

"...What?"

"I feed on the misery of your soul!" he shouted, his hot, smelly breath burning the singer's nostrils. He then made rather disturbing slurping noises before backing out of the room, all the while cackling wildly and keeping his eyes locked on his latest 'victim' until he was no longer in sight. The bluenette just shuddered.

"Hey, Russ? You don't really think..."

"He's just messin' with you, D. Don't even worry about it. You might wanna go disinfect your face though; you don't wanna get anything." Russel left too, leaving poor 2D to think about what he just said. He ran to the bathroom.

Sometime around midnight, the three of them had gone to bed-or rather, 2D had a bed, Murdoc a mattress in another room, and Russel the couch. The latter were out like lights, which surprised the singer. They usually stayed up much later, sometimes even all night. This time, however, Murdoc had hit his alcohol limit and passed out, and Russel said something about too much stress being draining. It didn't make any sense to him. Here he was, stressing over Paula like crazy, and he was still wide awake.

2D sighed. No matter how hard he tried he just couldn't get his mind off of earlier. Did she really mean it? Had she really reflected on the past and come to the conclusion that she needed to change and then seek his forgiveness? If so, then wasn't he being as cruel as she was to not take it seriously? All this worrying was making his head throb. His arm went to the pill bottle he kept on his nightstand but he stopped it, Murdoc's comment about his pill diet ringing through his mind. He sighed again and rolled over. This wasn't something he could make go away with painkillers. He'd fall into a dream-like state for a while before coming back to reality and seeing that the problem was still there, and the cycle would just repeat itself until something gave.

"Maybe I should speak to her on it again sometime," he mumbled to his pillow. "Maybe things really will get better." That part of him still missed the bassist, wanted to be with her again. Something at the very bottom of his heart said it was all wrong, that everything he was doing was one giant mistake, but he could never believe any of it. If any of this was a mistake then his very existence was pointless. The bluenette took a deep breath and reached for his pills. He'd only take a couple, just enough to get some much needed sleep. He'd worry about Paula in the morning.

* * *

 **A/N: Sorry this ended on a slightly depressing note, but some parts probably will be like this. You've been given a fair warning. :P**

 **I'm actually planning on trying to cover the entire Gorillaz timeline with this, more or less. Of course, certain things will be different-couldn't call it an AU otherwise-but I hope it's still fun to read. Hope you guys enjoy this story. Peace!**


	4. Chapter 4

2D awoke that morning to the smell of bacon. He tiredly glanced at his clock and saw that it was only nine thirty. He contemplated not getting up at all and instead trying to get more sleep. He only took a couple of pills last night but he still had some pretty disturbed dreams. And after the whole Paula incident yesterday, well, let's just say that they were even worse than usual. Just as his eyes began to shut once more it suddenly dawned on him that Russel was most likely the one behind breakfast and that the man had a rather large appetite. Deciding that sleeping in was not worth it if he wasn't going to get any food after, he forced himself to get out of bed and trudged into the kitchen for some much needed fuel and coffee.

Russel was just starting to cook some eggs when a very drowsy 2D wandered into the kitchen. "Mornin'," he said happily, briefly turning to give him a smile. "How you want your eggs?"

"Cooked," the bluenette yawned before plopping down in a chair and leaning all the way back, his eyes closing.

"I figured that, D. I meant-"

"Scrambled's fine." He was way too tired to care, really. He figured he'd take a short little nap while Russel finished his meal.

A plate suddenly clanked in front of him, startling him awake. "You alright, man? Never seen someone sleep in a chair like that before."

"Ugh..." 2D realized that he'd probably dislocated most of his vertebrae from the way he was leaning over in the chair. The back was too short to accommodate his height and, in addition to being bent almost entirely backwards, he'd slumped off to the side some in his sleep. It did not feel good once he sat up and his spine popped and cracked numerous times, causing Russel's face to curl up in disgust.

"That's a sound I'll never be able to un-hear," the keyboardist said while trying to keep his appetite.

"Sorry mate," the singer replied, picking up a piece of bacon. Speaking of horrendous sounds... "Where's Muds?" he asked, noticing that it was awfully quiet. Sure, it was still pretty early for the other man to be up but usually his snoring could be heard from outside.

"He must've gone out. I haven't seen him and your car's missing. Frankly, I'm surprised he was up so early. I woke up around nine and never saw a trace of him."

"I hope he's not out doing something stupid," 2D sighed, knowing full-well that if something got the drummer up that early then it was probably no good. The man refused to get up before noon for nearly everything. The building could be on fire and he still wouldn't give a damn.

"Maybe he just had an appointment or something." Russel was trying to be positive but he stopped once he realized how that sounded. Murdoc. Up early. Silently leaving. Possible appointment?

Both men shared worried looks over their breakfast. This probably wouldn't end well.

"So that's it, mate?" Murdoc asked, surprised.

"Yes. Now please. Take it or leave it." The man's voice audibly shook even over the phone's poor reception.

"Now hold on just a minute," he said, looking the place over. "That's awfully... cheap. Not that I'm complaining about it but-"

"It sounds like you're complaining! I'm being very generous here, Mr. Niccals." 'Mr. Niccals' narrowed his eyes in suspicion. Surely there was some sort of catch.

"I'd say you're being very funny about this. Are you trying to trick me?"

"Trick you?! Heavens no! Of course not! Why would I try to trick you?" He wasn't very good at hiding his emotions. The lie was very easy to detect. And Murdoc was the master of lies.

"Suppose I really did take this place off your hands. What if something happened?" Silence. Of course there was silence. "Listen here, buddy," he spat. "I don't know what's got your nuts in a twist, but so help me, if this is some sort of set up then your ass is gonna have something much more terrifying than an empty building."

"...That place isn't empty..." the man whispered. It was so quiet that he almost didn't hear it.

"What?" he asked, interested in what that meant.

"It's a terrible place. It's full of... evil things." Murdoc grinned from ear to ear. Full of evil things? Why didn't he say so sooner? "I'm sorry I tried to get you to buy it."

"No, no, no, don't be sorry. Why didn't you tell me that to begin with?"

"What?" The man sounded utterly shocked.

"Why didn't you tell me it was evil? Is it haunted? Cursed? Possessed? Please say it's one of those." Murdoc couldn't contain his excitement. This was his cup of tea after all.

"I-if I had to choose I'd say all three. Why are you-"

"All of them?! This place is perfect! I'll pay your price. You can meet me at the nearby restaurant by noon and we'll get everything together." Before the seller could get another word in he hung up, leaving the poor man confused, shocked, and disappointed that he didn't ask for a higher price. It also didn't give him the opportunity to say that he wouldn't even be in the town by noon.

"I'm obviously not available to take your call if you're hearing this, so you could try calling again some other time or, better yet, just fuck off." Murdoc's voice finished its mini-rant and was followed by an automated female one saying to leave a message after the tone.

"Heyyy, Muds," 2D drawled, exasperated. "For the, like, fifth time can you please call me back and tell me just what you're up to? It's been nearly five hours. Last time you were gone that long I had to hunt you down and then save you from being arrested." The bluenette hung up and sighed. He'd been trying all day to get ahold of Murdoc but to no avail.

"You're wastin' your time," Russel said as he passed the frustrated young man. "Now I don't blame you for being worried, but it's obviously pointless to try and call him. He made it pretty clear he wasn't gonna call you back about three hours ago." 2D sighed again.

"You're not helping," he said as he got up off the couch and began to pace in front of it.

"Look, man. The way I see it, ya got two options: go out and look for him or stop thinkin' about it. Now what's it gonna be?"

"Alright. Let's go. He's probably passed out on the street somewhere anyways, the dumbass." Russel followed a grumbling 2D out the front door and both men went their separate ways on their Murdoc hunt.

Russel strode down the streets looking for any clues as to where the drummer could've been, all the while trying not to bring too much attention to himself. Passer-by looked at him with frightened eyes and immediately stepped aside thinking he was some sort of monster or supernatural hitman. It pained the keyboardist to see such terrified reactions. He was scaring them without even meaning to and it hurt as much as if his own mother looked at him like that. Well, actually...

Russel shook his head and refocused his thoughts on finding the lunatic drummer he was somewhat forced to work with. He could take his pent up anger out on him once he caught him.

2D, the everlasting optimist, was beginning to lose hope. He'd asked every restaurant, every store, and every person he'd come across if they'd seen Murdoc and all had given him the hope-crushing answer of NO. He'd even gone so far as to ask what he was pretty sure were drug dealers (because with Murdoc it was very possible and very likely) but they'd denied it too before asking if he wanted to buy some 'groceries.' He was almost at his wits' end now. Normally, it wasn't this difficult to find the man. He was beginning to wonder if he'd gotten tired of the whole band thing and decided to skip town on them, without so much as leaving a note. It wasn't entirely far-fetched.

Russel groaned for the umpteenth time that day. His search was yielding nothing but one massive headache. Deciding to call it quits, he pulled out his phone and called 2D.

"Find him?" the younger man asked, still holding onto his last thread of optimism.

"Nope. Sorry, man, but I'm done. I've tried everywhere I could think of that I was brave enough to go and no one's seen him. There's nothing on the news about him gettin' arrested so we're just gonna have to assume that he doesn't want us to find him." For a few moments there was nothing but silence, causing Russel to check to see if he'd gotten disconnected. Finally, there was a sigh.

"You don't think he's left us, do you?" There was no hiding the dejection in his voice. The thought was just too disastrous for him. They were already having a hard enough time getting a bassist; finding a new drummer would be even more impossible. Murdoc, for all his shit, was a damn good drummer and there was no one 2D could think of who would even have the potential to be as good as him. And despite all the trouble he'd caused he was invaluable, not just for his musical prowess but for his sharp wit as well. In his rare sober state of mind the man was easily the most intelligent person 2D knew. Sure, his form of brainpower usually came in the form of a conniving manipulative bastard, but still. Smarts were smarts, and there was no denying just how well thought out Murdoc could be when he wanted. Although he seemed to enjoy spending most of his time acting like a drunken dumbass, or half-acting, at least.

"Yo, D. You hear me?"

"Sorry, what?" The singer snapped out of his daze.

"I said I don't think so. Why would he?"

"Why not?" he snorted. "He's made it pretty obvious he doesn't really care about us. The only one he's worried about is himself."

"Don't be like that. I know Muds is a bit of a prick sometimes... Ok, so all the time, but that doesn't change the fact that deep down inside-somewhere-he really does consider us friends."

"Uh-huh."

"The other thing is that this is Muds. You know how he loves his attention. The promise of the fame that comes with being in a band... There's nothing on this Earth that could make him turn that down."

"Except maybe not getting it soon enough," 2D muttered.

"What was that?"

"Nothing. You can just head home, Russ. I'm gonna stay out for a bit longer."

"Alright. Good luck. And cheer up, man. All this negativity is bad for your skin." With that, Russel hung up leaving 2D to furrow his brow at just what in the world that meant. Deciding to just ignore it, he continued looking.

An hour later saw 2D trudging up the steps to the front door, looking more depressed than ever and with no Murdoc in sight. Russel, panicked, came stomping up to him before he reached the last step.

"No luck?" he asked, already knowing. 2D didn't grace him with an answer. Instead, he made to move past him only for the large man to put his arms out as a barricade.

"What're you doin'?" he asked, bewildered. The worried look on Russel's face was both suspicious and frightening.

"Um... Don't you wanna sit outside and enjoy the fresh air for a bit?" he tried, already knowing that the singer wouldn't buy it.

"Russel..." 2D trailed off dangerously. "What's going on? Why won't you let me inside?" The keyboardist gulped at the younger man's tone. It wasn't like him to sound so menacing. "You can either answer, mate, or you can move aside and let me see for myself." All traces of darkness were gone from his voice but his eyes still held a glimmer of aggravation in their black depths.

Sighing, Russel complied. "You ain't gonna like it," he warned as the bluenette strode past. 2D blew him off and reached for the doorknob. "I'm serious man," Russel tried again. The singer once again ignored him and opened the door...

...to a very clean entryway. "What the...?" he muttered, before his eyes moved to look at the rest of the space he could see. Gasping in shock, he darted into the flat and searched every room in frantic desperation before coming back to the blank-faced Russel now standing in the living room. "Have we been robbed?!" 2D shrieked, on the verge of hysteria.

"I told you you wasn't gonna like it," was all Russel offered.

"What happened?! We weren't really gone that long, were we?!" The keyboardist merely shrugged.

"I'm sorry, man," he sincerely said.

"Sorry doesn't fix this! We're screwed now! Ugh... All our stuff... All _my_ stuff..." He fell back into the wall and slowly sank to the floor, hands covering his face in the vain hope that they'd stop the tears. "Now what..." he muttered. "I'll never be able to replace everything that was here."

"I'll help you, man. It won't be much, but it's somethin'. 'Sides, you can't work full-time with all the community service you have left." Russel sat beside him and gave him a reassuring pat on the shoulder.

"Thanks, Russ. You're a real good guy, y'know that?" 2D's eyes suddenly widened and he stood up, as if he just remembered something crucial. "Russ..." he trailed, the tone of his voice leading up to monumental anger.

"Yeah?" He braced himself for what was to come.

"You don't think... Murdoc did this, do you?"

It took a few moments for the words to process in Russel's mind. Sure, Murdoc could be quite a few things but a backstabbing thief? There was just no way he'd turn on them like this. Leave maybe, but not steal everything and the kitchen sink from 2D's apartment on the way out. No. There had to be another explanation.

"It makes sense," 2D spat bitterly when Russel didn't offer a response fast enough. "I mean, he's still pissed about the car accident. Why wouldn't he want to get me back for it?"

"Hold on. Car accident?" Russel couldn't have been anymore confused.

"This is obviously some revenge scheme he cooked up just to get payback. I bet he's already selling everything I own on some shady website or something."

"I don't know, D, that sounds-"

"And then he'll probably come back in here with a real smug look on his face and say, 'Hey! I just wanted to tell you that I made a fortune sellin' your shit and that I quit your silly, nonexistent band. So fuck you, you wanker.'"

"Calm down, man-" At that exact moment, 2D's phone rang. Pulling it out, the singer saw it was none other than the cause of all their problems for the day.

"Well, look who finally decided to return my calls," he spat. "And just where have you been?"

"Doing business. Now-"

"Thanks to you going missing me and Russ had to go look for you cuz we was worried, and _now_ you call me back after we've just been robbed?!" There was no holding back his rage.

"Robbed? Actually, faceache-"

"NO! I've had it with you trying to bullshit your way out of everything! Get your ass back here so you can help clean up your mess!" There was no response. "Hello!"

"Are you done yet?" Murdoc replied casually. 2D was too astonished at his calmness to yell anymore. "Good. Now as I was saying-or trying to-you weren't robbed. I took all your stuff."

"What? Why?"

"Because I'm tired of living in a damn tuna can, that's why! I bought us a nice little studio/residence a decent ways from your place. Now why don't you head out here and see for yourself before you start bombarding me with questions."

"Wait! Is that why you were missing all this time?"

"Of course. What, did you think I decided to skip town on you losers? Did you believe I stole everything and left you behind saying, 'You pathetic bunch of morons!' Please. Have a little more faith in me, eh?" With that he hung up and within a few moments he sent 2D the directions to their new place.

"See? I told you it wasn't like him." Russel was relieved to find that 2D's accusations were false. Though he still felt bad because he too was beginning to think that Muds had done them wrong.

"Please. Don't rub it in." 2D held his palm over his face to try and stop his headache. Knowing Murdoc he likely took all of his painkillers as well, meaning that they'd have to come to him anyway. "Let's just go find him. This place is called Kong Studios; hopefully it's something good."

"Hey, can't be any worse than this, right?" Russel's attempt at brightening the mood was crushed once they realized they'd need to take the bus because Murdoc still had 2D's car.

"Russ."

"Yeah?"

"You were wrong. You were dead wrong. It's so much worse..." The bluenette buried his face in his hands at the sight before him while his companion just looked on with slight concern. A massive creepy-looking building surrounded by dead trees and crows was not his ideal living space.

"WELCOME!" There was Murdoc, at the end of the walkway leading to the door, with his arms spread wide and looking far happier than either had ever seen him. "This is Kong Studios!"

"Well... At least he's happy."

"Shut up, Russ."

* * *

 **A/N: It's been way too long since I've updated this. Sorry about that. With everything going on right now I'm not sure how quickly my updates will come but I figured that a new chap for this fic should be finished first just because of the new album. Hope you enjoyed it. Up next will be the trio's adjustment to living in Kong and their ongoing search for a bassist, among other things.**


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